Princess to psychotic killer: Some makeover
by Amaya92
Summary: What a day it was. Sam and Austin were finally together and determined to never part. Sadly, fate had another course in mind.
1. Hippies Vegas OoOoOo

What a day it was. Sam and Austin were finally together and determined to never part. Sadly, fate had another course in mind.

* * *

Sam gazed dreamily into Austin's eyes. What pretty eyes they were. They were blue like the ocean… or the sky….

"Sam… SAM!" Austin shouted.

"Wha- What?" Sam replied, startled.

"You were talking to yourself again. I think it was about – my eyes?"

"Oh, yes. Sorry about that," she said with a sheepish grin. "It's just – I love you so much – you're the most beautiful person I've ever known. Sometimes I feel like fate has brought us together. From the moment I first saw your face, I knew we were destined for each other. When we kiss, I feel like we're-"

"Jeez, Sam!" Austin interrupted. "Are you getting obsessive or something? I'm just your boyfriend. Boyfriend – that doesn't mean soul mate, or husband, or anything like that! You are taking our relationship _way_ too seriously." With that, he walked off, occasionally throwing a disturbed glance over his shoulder. _Wow, _he thought, _I didn't mean to be that harsh on her, but – there has to be a line. And she just crossed it. She's been babbling about this fate thing for weeks. I didn't think she meant it… but Sam's scaring me now. Next thing I know, she'll drug me and drag me off to Vegas or somewhere and get us married by some stoned hippie who believes in that destiny crap. I thought she was at least _sane_, not a psycho astrology fate freak. Maybe I should have stuck with Shelby after all…_

* * *

Sam was shocked. She hadn't expected Austin to react like that – she thought he would understand, relate to her, even share her feelings! Her grief and disappointment seemed to settle in her stomach, weighing her down like lead. As the hot tears started to run down her face, she felt the hard knot start to relax, and become something else entirely – cold anger.

* * *

Note: All death threats or other reviews of that nature will be forwarded to my Complaints Department, where they will inevitably gather dust and rot. I would apologize to all of the poor souls who are devoted to insert story category>, but I don't feel like it. I do not own anything I write about. 


	2. A Lively Conversation

Sam sat on her bed, contemplating what to do next. This new anger cleared her mind, allowed her to think without the pathetic priorities society had placed on her. She wondered why Austin had snapped at her like that. Usually he was so supportive and kind. Suddenly, Sam realized the root of the problem. _Shelby_. That mindless little featherhead had always been in her way. She had blocked Sam from Austin, from having a normal social life, _everything_. "That girl has got to go," she said to herself. Maybe with Shelby out of the way, Austin would return to his normal self. Sam got out a piece of paper and pencil and started jotting down ideas for Shelby's demise.

* * *

Shelby admired herself in her new mirror, specially imported from Norway, as were all of her "stylish" belongings, along with her water. She smirked as she recalled her friends' faces when told that her uber-fashoinable furniture was from a foreign country. Those miserable little copycats only did whatever she did. Shelby suspected that if she threw herself off a cliff (but who would want to do that, with _her_ looks and charm) they would gladly follow her. There was a whisper of air behind her and Shelby turned around, looking at her room with suspicion. Who would dare disturb her? She quickly found the culprit, a half-open window. Shelby wondered when she had opened it, but shrugged, blaming her poor memory on the nail polish fumes. As she closed it, a voice whispered behind her, "Now you will pay."

* * *

"Sam! Do you remember Shelby from high school?" Austin said incredulously. He and Sam were at their favorite coffee shop. It had been a week since their little fight and Sam hadn't mentioned destiny even once since. 

"Yes… unfortunately. Why?" Sam replied.

"She died yesterday afternoon. In her own room, can you believe that? The maids didn't even hear anything. They found out when one of her friends called. It seems Shelby neglected to make her hourly report to the rest of her posse and they got suspicious. They don't even know how she died – it could be suicide, anything!"

"Well, Shelby doesn't seem to be the suicidal type. She's got, or _had_, a perfect life and lots of friends." Sam said carefully. "I hope they find out what happened soon, or her little friends might decide to join her."

"Sam, don't joke about things like that. It's not funny. I know you hated Shelby after that 'diner-girl' incident, but she'd been decent enough to me. Her posse may have been annoying, but they couldn't help it."

"What do you mean? I thought you hated her after what she did. I thought you _cared_ about me! We were meant for each other, Austin," Sam sobbed. "Shelby… well, she wanted to change that. She tried to steal you from me. Shelby couldn't stand the idea that you liked any girl who wasn't her."

"Damn it, Sam! I thought we were done with this destiny and fate crap. Are you turning into a hippie or something?" Austin yelled, outraged.

"_Austin_! How can you call me a hippie! That – that is just – not true!" Sam wailed. People were turning around in their seats to see what the commotion was about. The shop owner came over to the table, where Austin was red with fury and Sam looked like she was going to drown in her tears. He cleared his throat, looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"Ah, excuse me? If this argument is going to continue, would you please finish it _outside_ and off my property? You're disturbing the customers," he pleaded.

"_Fine_," Austin snarled. "I was just leaving." He stormed off, leaving Sam bewildered and miserable at the table. _I thought he would be happy now, now that Shelby's gone. Now he's even angrier than before. How am I supposed to fix this?_

* * *

Note: All death threats or other reviews of that nature will be forwarded to my Complaints Department, where they will inevitably gather dust and rot. I would apologize to all of the poor souls who are devoted to insert story category , but I don't feel like it. I do not own anything I write about. 

Author note: Wow… longest chapter so far. Oo… I really need to get more psychotic… where's my alternate personality when I need her? Oh, yes, and before I forget, Rosemary Parkinsons, if you're reading this, I hope you're not offended that I used your story title. It just seemed to - fit.


	3. Anything?

Austin ran up the stairs, ignoring his father's strange looks. He slammed the door and threw himself onto his bed, feeling a headache start. Austin reached for the bottle of aspirin he kept on his dresser and unscrewed the top. _I'm not sure what to think of Sam anymore. She's gotten so weird around me… and that whole thing about Shelby – it seemed like Sam thought Shelby deserved it. How can someone deserve to die? And Shelby did have me first. Technically Sam stole me from _her_ – not the other way around. I didn't even know Sam existed until I found out who Princetongirl actually was… lately I've been wishing I had never visited that chatroom. I really need to get away for a while, but knowing Sam, she'd probably hide in my suitcase or something. _Austin chuckled at his mental image of his suitcase going through security, Sam being discovered, maybe even arrested… _Hey, she's my girlfriend. I know Sam is being a pain right now, but she'll get over it – hopefully. _Austin shook two pills out into his hand and gulped them down. _Right now, I think I just need some sleep._

* * *

Sam sat at the table, a stray tear running down her cheek occasionally. She couldn't understand Austin and his narrow-mindedness. _Why does believing in fate and destiny make me a hippie? All I said is that we were meant to be. I s Austin such a control freak that he's completely opposed to the idea that someone up there guides us and makes our paths? I'd give anything to know what goes on in his head – then I could make him happy._

* * *

"Anything? Hmm…." a voice whispered in the darkness.

* * *

Note: All death threats or other reviews of that nature will be forwarded to my Complaints Department, where they will inevitably gather dust and rot. I would apologize to all of the poor souls who are devoted to -insert story category-, but I don't feel like it. I do not own anything I write about.

Author Note: Sorry that this chapter is so short. I'm trying to decide how the plot's going to go.


End file.
